


Tighter than B

by Marialances



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Fluff and Smut, Knotting, M/M, Past Braeden/Derek Hale, Rimming, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 20:31:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13643901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marialances/pseuds/Marialances
Summary: Derek gets Stiles to help with a long-time problem called Braeden.They end up getting far more close to each other than originally planned.Derek POV.**”You want me to pull it out to prove a point?” Derek growled.”You move and I scratch your eyes out,” Stiles informed.**





	Tighter than B

Derek, despite his age of 29, was terrified. It wasn’t because he was attending Lydia Martin’s 23rd birthday party, along with all the rest of the Beacon Hills cream, which might have warranted the sentiment; but because he had just seen Braeden enter the front door.

Now, Derek had sort of a history with Braeden. And he had sort-of dumped her a few years ago, shortly after becoming a fully evolved werewolf. He’d gotten bored with her continuous Domme act and, because he was a man with multiple relationship traumas, done the simple disappearing act in response. Which, in retrospect, hadn’t been the wisest of moves, since Braeden hadn’t taken it all that well, and Derek might have been trying to escape her clutches every day since. The assassin had decided they were the perfect match for each other, and despite Derek had explained to her over and over again, via multiple texts, and a few times even in person, that it wouldn’t work because Derek really wasn’t into those sort of things she was into, at least in a submissive’s role, Braeden remained unmoved.

Which meant, in this particular moment in time, Derek was in trouble. He dashed from the living room area into the shelter of the extensive marble-and-oak wood-covered kitchen, where Lydia’s neon-blue birthday punch was being freely served. He looked around nearly frantically, hoping to come up with some clever idea how to avoid confronting the assassin, when his eyes landed on Stiles Stilinski, the Spark of Scott’s pack and the cleverest man Derek knew. The fresh FBI agent was presently chatting away with Mason and Corey, looking the epitome of relaxation and good humor in his black, short-sleeved t-shirt and black, snug jeans. An idea suddenly formed in Derek’s mind; a crazy one, and totally to be considered as teenager stuff, but he was past caring at this point as his sensitive hearing discerned Braeden asking after his whereabouts from Scott.

”Hey Stiles,” Derek smoothly maneuvered himself next to the younger man and practically pressed their noses together. ”You swing both ways, right?”

Stiles looked at him with his shiny, wide eyes as if Derek had hit his head. ”Well, yeah.”

Encouraged, Derek grabbed his shoulders. ”Am I at all your type? Just even a little?”

Stiles looked even more flabbergasted if possible, but managed an amused little smile. ”Tú... Siempre has sido muy, muy atractivo, Miguel.”

”Good. Can I make out with you for a moment?”

Stiles probably heard the raw despair in his voice and, clever as he was, peeked over his shoulder. Soon, he grimaced knowingly. ”Braeden?”

”Yes.”

”Okay,” he shrugged. ”Bring it on - if you can.”

Derek sighed with relief and quickly pulled Stiles in his arms. How much difficult would it be to kiss a man instead of a woman? He gently pried Stiles’ lips open with his tongue and indulged him in a hesitant kiss, trailing his hands down over Stiles’ sinewy back, finally settling them on his ass. He was surprised to find it rather plump and perky, and gave it a little experimental squeeze. Just to make it look more real to Braeden. Yeah. He copped another, a better feel as he sucked on Stiles’ tongue with more courage.

Stiles moaned. ”Dude, if you keep on all that groping stuff I’m gonna pop a boner,” he whispered against Derek’s lips.

Derek, sensing Braeden’s presence, mumbled a hasty ” _idontcare_ ” and pushed the other man hard against the fridge. He easily lifted Stiles off the floor, both hands now grabbing that surprisingly nice ass, and left Stiles no other option than to wrap his legs around Derek’s waist. Derek ground his hips down and kissed Stiles some more, desperate to convey his message of ”back-the-fuck-off-bitch” to the assassin, who approached them now, smelling of annoyance, surprise and disbelief. Derek could feel several other eyes on them as well, and was glad to hear Scott whispering to the pack ”play along”, in a tone only the werewolves could discern.

”Alright, boys,” Braeden addressed them, sounding bored. She came close and grasped Stiles’ wrist where he’d been scratching the nape of Derek’s neck quite enticingly, pulling the warmth of the man’s touch away, much to Derek’s chargin. Stiles even winced; she must have hurt him on purpose. ”I think this is enough of this childish play. Derek,” she simpered. ”We have some unfinished business, as you very well know.”

Derek was forced to let Stiles slide back down, the fridge door hissing with relief in process. He swallowed. He really didn’t want to finish any kind of business with Braeden. No, that wasn’t right; he wanted to finish _every_ kind of business with Braeden. But that seemed to be impossible since the woman refused to accept it. Derek flinched as she smoothed his stubble-covered cheek with her free hand, still twisting Stiles’ wrist in the other. There was this predatory glint in her eye that Derek had once overlooked, back when he’d been losing his powers and accepted any kind of distraction available; but he couldn’t overlook it now. His wolf absolutely loathed it; loathed all kinds of attempts to dominate him. Hell, _he_ was supposed to be the predator, not her, or anyone else he chose to have sex with.

Probably fortified by his silence, Braeden smiled sweetly and licked her lips, before trailing her fingers along Derek’s neck. ”Come with me, lover.”

Derek tensed, heart beating fast.

”Actually, Brae, I’d rather he came with _me_ ,” a curt tone of voice cut into his panic-laden mind. “Or in me. Or perhaps all over my face. Or I could swallow. I don’t know yet.”

Braeden gaped at Stiles, probably surprised by the man’s bravery against such a dominant woman as herself. Derek let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding; Stiles’ strong voice was like a soothing balm on his nerves, and the words he’d chosen to shoot at her made him actually fight a grin.

Stiles forcibly detached his wrist from her death-grip and licked his swollen lips, turning back to Derek. ”Now… Where were we, _lover?”_

”Getting upstairs to visit the guest room,” Lydia intervened. She looked like she could go all banshee on Braeden, which warmed Derek’s heart. She tapped the sole of her yellow Louboutin impatiently against the tiled kitchen floor and looked rather pissed. ”Braeden, I don’t want a scene, it’s my birthday party. And boys,” she looked at them almost tenderly, “Don’t totally wreck the bed like last time.”

Derek tried to convey her his multiple thanks just via sheer eye contact, and she rolled her eyes in return. She, just like Stiles and the rest of the pack, were just awesome. Of course, Derek had always thought they were, since he had made the decision to come back to Beacon Hills as Scott’s only Alpha underling; but he was occasionally still overwhelmed by their loyalty towards someone as generally unreachable and unresponsive as he was.

“I’ll buy you a new bed if it comes to that again,” he promised with a small smile.

”Are you serious?” Braeden found her voice, looking back and forth between them all, her gaze finally landing on Derek. ”I’m finally back in town and you’re choosing this scrawny little piece of man-ass over everything you could have with me? We had some real good times,” she grinned hungrily. ”I know you can’t have forgotten.”

”Yea,” Stiles drawled and managed to sound totally bored. ”Now all he moans in bed is how my hole’s so much tighter than yours ever was.”

There were multiple gasps and a few snorts and hushed giggles from all who had heard.

”Oh my god, don’t rile her up,” Derek gasped in Stiles’ ear and nudged Stiles’ chin with his nose, trying to hide the grin that was nearly hurting his cheeks.

”Mmm... whatever you want, Alpha Hale,” he whispered, and tilted his head back wantonly. He exposed his neck to Derek so beautifully in surrender that the werewolf instincts got Derek fully hard in mere seconds. Well, fuck. If that wasn’t an invite for his wolf, nothing was. He couldn’t help the instinctive growl that escaped him.

”The guestroom. _Now_.” Lydia pointed at the staircase, and even though she apparently knew this was all play, her cheeks were tinted rather pink. ”And keep it quiet, or I’ll rip both your balls off. With my brand new nails.”

Derek didn’t have to be told twice when faced with the sharpish, green-and-gold painted extensions. He tugged Stiles along and stalked to the stairs, leaving behind an angry-smelling Braeden to whom Lydia was quickly offering some punch as consolation, suggesting she should really forget about Derek, because Stiles had already jailed him between his thighs quite firmly for all eternity.

Which wasn’t true, of course, but the idea was suddenly turning quite interesting in Derek’s heated mind. Huh.

They practically collapsed through the guestroom door, and Derek smoothly kicked it closed. Stiles was hanging from his arm, shaking and silently laughing his ass off, trying his best to keep his howls of mirth quiet enough so that Braeden wouldn’t hear.

”Dude, that was so awesome,” he finally gasped for air, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. ”Haven’t had so much fun in... in… Hell, I don’t even remember when!”

Derek had to agree, and laughed as well. Stiles looked at him in sheer amazement, with those amazing caramel-bronze eyes of his, and touched his lips. ”Wow, Der, that’s... one hell of a gorgeous smile you have there. Didn’t know you could pull off something like that.”

Amused, Derek snatched the exploring fingers gently between his teeth before releasing them. ”Didn’t know you could pull off _submissive_ to a werewolf, Special Agent Stilinski,” he countered.

”Hey, my first girlfriend was your cousin,” Stiles laughed. ”She’s a natural dominant like the rest of you Hales appear to be. You should know I was the little spoon in our relationship. She’s amazing like that. Really dropped me on my knees, figuratively speaking.”

Derek heard Malia cackle downstairs. The sodding lot was probably listening in all the time.

”Now, how do you suggest we spend this time up here?” Stiles looked around the room. ”We’ve got to stay, like, maybe half an hour at least?”

Derek knew quite well what he wanted to do – or, rather, _try_ to do – but wasn’t certain how to bring forth his wishes. Against all odds, he was now regarding Stiles with growing sexual interest, and wondered if the other man would be willing to let him experiment. His musings were interrupted quickly, though, as Scott’s voice drifted into his consciousness, warning about Braeden still having not believed their act, and that she was now coming upstairs.

”Shit. Scott says Braeden didn’t believe our act and is now...”

Stiles was immediately all business. ”Okay, I’ve got us.”

With nimble fingers, Stiles pried open Derek’s pants, pulled them down together with his underwear, pushed him back to sit on the bed, knelt in front of him and promptly swallowed his half-hard dick.

”Holy _fuck_ _!_ ” Derek let out a strangled moan and fisted the innocent, royal blue bedspread, his spontaneously emerged claws ripping it slightly. ”Stiles...”

Stiles only took him in deeper. Derek propped himself up on his elbows and watched, dazed, as his now straining cock disappeared and re-emerged from Stiles’ skillful, sinful mouth. He vaguely wondered if he should be having some sort of an identity crisis, since Stiles was a man, but all he could feel was confused bliss.

The door banged open with a snarled ”Derek, I don’t buy this shit-”, but the irate voice died down almost immediately. Derek guessed the view had shocked Braeden speechless. He didn’t bother - _couldn’t_ bother - to avert his eyes from the gorgeous, dick-swallowing man at his feet just to look at her.

”Ah… so good,” Derek spoke softly at Stiles instead, raking his fingers through the sexy mess of the man’s slightly spiky hair and tugged a little. ”Yeah... just like that... You’re sucking me so beautifully, baby, just like I want it.”

Stiles hummed and, if Derek wasn’t mistaking the expression as well as the satisfied, aroused scent, the man appeared genuinely pleased. He only then remembered Braeden, finally glancing up at her.

”Uh... You gonna stay and watch, or what?” he managed.

She looked positively appalled. ”Hell no!”

She stalked out, slamming the door shut behind her. Derek heard the entire pack howl with laughter downstairs. The other birthday guests must think they had all gone insane, if anything could be deducted from Lydia’s hissed pleas for them to be less weird.

Stiles looked up at him then, idly licking some pre-come from the slit of Derek’s cock, pupils oddly dilated. ”You think this was enough?”

”Not nearly,” Derek panted.

”I meant,” Stiles gave him his typical lopsided grin. ”For _her_.”

”Oh.”

Derek heard Scott and Liam groan, Malia cackle even louder – damn her – and Hayden titter. Thank heavens Peter had not realized to invite himself this time, because this was turning totally embarrassing for him. Then again, Derek was almost past caring; Stiles licked him again, slowly, experimentally, while watching him avidly.

“What do you want?”

Derek’s dick twitched. ”Shit, Stiles... I…” he stopped. He had been about to say _want to_ _fuck you right now,_ but how could he ask something like that from this man who was both his friend and the most treasured member Scott’s pack, the Spark, the Emissary? Hell, he’d probably asked too much already, even if Stiles had not particularly complained. And Derek wouldn’t even know how to proceed, how to have sex with another man. It wasn’t like he’d ever tried.

”Yes?” Stiles asked quietly, and damn if he didn’t look just edible, his lips moist and red, and his hair now a total mess.

Derek swallowed. He looked at the closed door, knowing the pack was keenly listening to them.

”Ah, of course,” Stiles sighed, and fished his cell out of the pocket of his tight jeans. He typed quickly, and soon Derek’s Whatsapp binged. Raising a brow at the smirking man, once again amazed by his genius, he looked at the screen.

_Want me to suck you off or sth more?_

His reply was certain. _More_

Stiles licked the underside of his cock and took it in his mouth as he simultaneously typed his comeback. _How much more?_

Derek didn’t know how to put his needs to words and looked helplessly at Stiles, who seemed to think his dick was some sort of a lollipop, the way he kept sucking it lazily, almost as if it was his daily routine. Stiles typed him another message.

_Wanna fuck me in the ass and see if I’m really tighter than B? Cause I’d totally let you_

Derek inhaled audibly. Their eyes met, and Derek stared into those bright, brown depths for a long time, before slowly nodding.

Stiles immediately stood up and typed with one hand, while his other went to open the buttons of his jeans, revealing a track of dark hair, from which Derek found impossible to look away.

_Just relax im gonna make it good 4u_

”Okay,” Derek swallowed.

Stiles smiled at him - fondly, even! - and walked into the adjoining bathroom. He soon came back with a small tube that scented like some sort of moisturizing lotion the Martins had probably reserved for their night guests. Derek actually understood what it was for, even if he wasn’t all that well educated when it came to guy-on-guy stuff.

 _I dont have condoms,_ Derek realized to text him.

_No fear u cant knock me up ;)_

Derek raised him a brow and let out a laugh. It was true. Something he’d never had to _not_ worry about before. And since he was a werewolf, he couldn’t catch or spread sexual diseases either. Not that Stiles seemed to have them, either. At least the man smelled totally healthy - in addition to totally horny, of course.

Stiles shimmied out of his jeans and Derek noticed he wasn’t wearing anything under. He stared at the man’s junk with curiosity and weird arousal. Stiles was hard, just like he was, and quite a nice size. And his ass was _exceptionally_ nice. Derek wanted his hands on it again. _Wanted to mark that pretty pale skin with his claws_ , his wolf-side specified.

Derek hummed with satisfaction as Stiles climbed in his lap, straddling him. The man leaned down, as if asking permission, and Derek hungrily grabbed his neck and pulled him into a greedy kiss. Derek wanted Stiles to know, without words, that he wanted this. Wanted _him._ Even if he had practically no idea what to do. And even if he hadn’t really thought this properly through. He was going on with pure instinct and hoped they would both come out of this ordeal at least relatively sane. And their friendship mostly intact.

Derek jolted when Stiles wrapped his fingers around his thickened cock; they were a bit cold with the liberal amount of moisturizer he’d applied, but it felt damn good, so damn good. Stiles stroked him slowly and gave little bites to his lips. Derek couldn’t help a little needy growl escaping him, and was instantly rewarded with Malia’s smug ”they’re totally doing it”, from downstairs, and Scott’s hissed ”don’t listen in, give them some privacy!”

”You sure you’re ok with this?” Stiles whispered in his ear.

Derek replied by latching his teeth gently onto the base of his neck, and sucked hard. It was Stiles’ turn to moan, and before Derek even realized it, he felt hot tightness wrapping around his dick, inch by inch and _fuck_ it felt better than anything ever and he was probably going to die right now with the intensity of the pleasure. His hands gripped Stiles’ hips, his claws indeed biting a little into the smooth, warm skin, and he felt his canines starting to drop. He leaned his forehead against Stiles’ and panted with the effort to control his beta-shift as Stiles impaled himself on him. For some reason, keeping control had never been as hard as it was now.

Stiles finally stopped moving and held completely still. Through his haze of euphoria, Derek realized this must be painful for him. Hell - he knew he wasn’t particularly badly endowed, and Stiles had taken him all the way in in mere seconds. Even the girls he’d dated before had begged for some time to adjust, and here was this foolish yet so totally captivating man who’d probably decided to win some silly, non-existent contest against some fucking assassin bitch Derek could care less about.

Derek instantly slid his hands over the mounds of Stiles’ delectable ass, just like he’d wanted to do all this time, but instead of groping, he started to pull out the pain. Stiles sighed with relief, his breath warm against Derek’s lips as Derek grimaced getting an actual understanding of what the man’s ass was going through.

”Shhh,” he kissed the side of Stiles’ mouth, and then trailed his nose along the side of the man’s face, down to his vulnerable neck, scenting him. Stiles tilted his head back once again, so very trusting, and allowed the werewolf to lick his throat, his Adam’s apple, his pulse points, all the while just shivering in his arms. Then he rocked his hips, and Derek’s world tilted upside down.

Stiles was tight and hot as hell, and when friction was also finally added to the equation, the feel of the movement, Derek wondered if he’d ever truly realized how wonderful sex could be. He was sure none of his previous partners had managed to make him feel this raw a need, this pure a bliss that he was now feeling, almost fighting insanity. He really couldn’t stop his canines from dropping now, nor could he help his eyes turning red. Stiles’ obvious submission only egged his wolf on.

Stiles pushed him softly down on the bed. He was beautifully flushed, eyes glowing with determination and -hunger? - and his heartbeat was insanely fast. In that moment, he was the most gorgeous thing Derek had ever laid his eyes on, and his wolf howled for ownership, for claiming. Stiles began to move again, and Derek touched his chest, sliding his clawed hand under his tight black shirt, placing it just above his frantic heart.

Neither of them spoke. Derek was already close, and he desperately wanted to make Stiles feel just as good, but didn’t really know how. He was almost mad at himself. Stiles chewed his lower lip and looked down at him - damn those inexplicably compelling eyes of his! - and Derek wanted to ask him what to do, how to reciprocate, but couldn’t find the words. He was new to this, and he hated it. He was supposed to be good in bed, damn it. He was already nearly thirty, not an unknowledgeable virginal teenager with fumbling hesitations. But he had never had a guy in the sack before.

”Hey,” Stiles whispered, leaned down and kissed him again, seemingly not minding the least Derek had partially shifted. His canines bit into the man’s lips when their tongues danced, but Stiles didn’t retreat. Until he suddenly rolled off him, tossed off his shirt, and knelt on the bed, going on all fours and smiling at Derek almost coyly. ”Fuck me,” he mouthed, nearly inaudibly.

Derek was behind him in a flash, before he even realized it himself, hands grabbing the younger man’s thighs, pulling their bodies together. His cock was now resting nicely between Stiles’ cheeks, heavy and pulsing right above that tiny puckered hole, waiting to be shoved in. Derek hissed, trying to control his most animalistic urges, not wanting to cause any more pain. He didn’t hear any running commentary from the pack, so he assumed Stiles’ voice had been quiet enough, or that Scott was distracting Malia – the only one brave enough to disobey the Alpha’s orders of giving them privacy – with some smooth tricks of his own. Derek was glad, though. He bent down and licked a long, wet trail up along Stiles’ spine. He certainly knew how to move his hips, and if he was really allowed to do so, without having to take any weird gay things into account...

”Don’t overthink it, Der,” Stiles whispered. ”Use me like I was your wolf bitch or something. I won’t break. I like it rough. Make this good for me, too.”

The last strings of Derek’s self-control snapped, and he let out a low growl. He leaned back and spread Stiles’ ass. He was apparently allowed to do just as he liked, so he bent down and pushed his tongue in, making Stiles actually swear and groan. Encouraged, Derek ate him with enthusiasm, his wolf wanting to taste all of him. He licked and pushed his tongue in, and out, until Stiles was whining rather pitifully for a grown-up man and pleading for him to stop lest he came. Derek, feeling finally in charge and good about himself, feeling good about making Stiles feel good, took mercy and replaced his tongue with the swollen tip of his penis. Stiles pushed his ass up, obviously wanting more.

From the corner of his eye, Derek saw the hand-cream tube on the bedcover and grabbed it. He squeezed its contents rather angrily all over where his cock was entering Stiles, and then - unable to hold back any longer - he shoved all the way in, in one rough thrust.

Stiles craned his body like a cat in response and moaned wantonly before grabbing a nearby decorative pillow and burying his face in it. Derek began to pound into him in earnest, with wild frenzy and abandon. Stiles made muffled, enthused noises and Derek hummed, satisfied. He watched how Stiles’ pretty hole stretched with each rapid thrust, the rim gripping his cock a bit whenever he pulled out, and Derek was sure he had never seen anything more stimulating. He was transfixed; all of his attention was wrapped around this gorgeous, writhing human being in front of him. The world had narrowed down to the point where nothing and no-one else mattered.

Stiles pushed himself up on his knees and leaned back, his head resting on Derek’s strong shoulder, and steadied himself with reaching back and grabbing Derek’s neck. Then he began to stroke himself, panting, his hand moving over his cock in synch with Derek’s movements. Derek changed his angle a bit and Stiles practically wailed. ” _Ohfuckyes!_ That’s the spot, that’s it, don’t... oh god don’t stop.”

Derek had no idea what he was talking about, but since he seemed to go all ecstatic and dazed and crazy in this particular position, Derek made sure to continue according to his wishes. He did push in just a bit more forcibly, though, his beta-shift progressing against his will, his wolf seeking dominance. That seemed to be okay, though, since Stiles kept making these quiet, desperate noises and stroking himself even faster.

And then, out of the fucking blue, Stiles tightened around him so much it almost hurt, and came. The scent of his cum, combined with the pulsing of his anus, was too much for Derek to handle, and with a curse he shifted fully into his beta form. He felt his own orgasm approaching and was horrified to realize he’d probably form a knot in his current state. And yet, he couldn’t pull out; he was too far gone.

”I’m sorry, Stiles, this is probably gonna hurt a bit,” he grumbled in the other’s ear as the knot indeed formed, fast, stretching the poor man’s anus into new extremes. Stiles gasped and panted, and Derek stopped moving, his orgasm hitting him with dizzying force, and with a groan against Stiles’ shoulder, he emptied his load inside the other man’s ass.

They both fell down, panting, Derek half on top of Stiles. He slowly shifted back to human, but as he’d feared, his knot still remained, keeping him quite stuck inside his companion.

”Amazing,” Stiles announced, his voice husky and low. ”Does this happen every time? The shifting and the knotting?”

Derek frowned. He was actually somewhat awed Stiles knew in what kind of predicament they were. Then again, the guy was their Emissary and well-informed of everything regarding werewolf anatomy and traits.

”No,” he finally replied. ”This never happens.”

”Sure,” Stiles snorted.

”No. Really. This was the first time I couldn’t hold it back when having sex with someone. Ever.”

Stiles was silent and seemed to digest this information. ”You mean,” he clarified, ”you don’t usually fuck people in beta-shift, so the knot hasn’t been an issue.”

”Yeah.”

”Ok. So... how long exactly are we gonna be stuck like this?”

”Don’t know. Maybe half an hour?”

”What!” Stiles turned to glare at him, quite put out. ”You could’ve warned me, dude.”

”At least I apologized,” Derek shrugged, amused. ”Even beforehand.”

”Yea, like, ten seconds beforehand!”

There was a loud knock on the door, and they both froze.

”No fear, you couldn’t force me to enter this room, or even open this door, even if you bribed me with million dollars,” Scott sounded both amused and anguished. ”Just wanted to let you know, Malia’s calling Peter over. Because of. You know. She thinks it’s time to celebrate. And... she’s not talking about Lydia’s birthday.”

Stiles was confused. ”You lost me, dude.”

Derek, instead, paled. This could not be possible. Yet here he was, his dick stuck in Stiles’ ass, keeping his semen from falling out, and he felt completely peaceful about it, completely at ease, as if this was a natural place for him – for them – to be. He’d had his first uncontrollable shift in years, and he’d ignored it, had just continued, like a possessed person. He’d had amazing sex with his long-time friend, without any trouble, and he wasn’t even supposed to be gay. Shit.

”You’re not gonna like this,” he groaned and hid his face in Stiles’ neck.

”Gonna leave you two at it,” Scott informed in a singsong tone of voice and stomped down the stairs.

”What’s going on?” Stiles demanded.

”Um... You’re...” Derek mumbled against his skin,” ...quite possibly and very much probably a match for me.”

”...uh huh.”

”That is to say, you’re someone my wolf trusts utterly and completely.”

”I should certainly hope so,” Stiles huffed. ”We’ve been acquainted with each other for over eight years.”

”It _means_ ,” Derek carefully trailed his hand along Stiles’ side, hoping the man wouldn’t freak out, ”my wolf has decided you’d be perfect mate material for me.”

Stiles was silent for a long time. Derek waited. It didn’t make things easier they were physically and intimately stuck together; Derek could feel Stiles’ tenseness as the man digested the information.

”We don’t have to act upon it,” Derek softly explained, his fingers trailing the small moles on Stiles’ shoulder, ”but if we don’t, I might have to... avoid you, for a while at least. Just so I don’t... force myself on you. It’s. Now that my wolf has recognized you, it’s difficult for me to let you go. Matches are rare, you see.”

Stiles gave a short laugh. ”You realize you have a pretty shitty life, don’t you? After all these years, after all your catastrophic relationships, you still can’t find the perfect girl. No - your wolf just suddenly chooses someone random for you, and it’s far from what your human would prefer. That must really suck balls.”

”I don’t see what you mean.”

”Dude.” Stiles looked at him earnestly. ”You just said your wolf chose me. _Me._ A guy you’ve known for almost a decade and never looked at with any kind of sexual interest before. You’re not even gay!”

”I could be bisexual,” Derek mused.

”Trust me, you’re not. It’s just not something you could’ve overlooked until now.”

”I just had sex with you and it was awesome.”

”Your brain was panic-addled because of Braeden and you had to resort to desperate measures. Sorry I took advantage of the situation.”

”My brain functions just fine now. Do you see me freaking out at the prospect of you being my match?”

”It’s your wolf talking.”

”I’m back to human now!”

”No, you’re not, you dolt. Your dick is still in my ass because your idiotic wolf is keeping up the knot. Ergo, wolf talking.”

”You want me to pull it out to prove a point?” Derek growled.

”You move and I scratch your eyes out,” Stiles informed.

”Does it hurt?”

”It will if you move.”

”Tell me honestly, would you consider dating me if I asked you in about half an hour, when we’re not like this anymore?”

Stiles sighed and shivered a little, maybe from cold, and Derek spooned him properly. Stiles fit just perfectly in his arms.

”Stiles, answer my question. Would you date me?”

The Spark sighed again. ”I guess.”

”Good,” Derek smiled, and kissed his shoulder. ”And thank you. For not freaking out when I shifted earlier.”

Stiles mumbled something into the pillow, clearly embarrassed, but Derek was pretty sure he heard words _hot as hell._

Derek beamed.

“Where is my nephew, that lucky bastard?” came from downstairs, and Derek’s next moments were spent hastily trying to adjust the ripped bedspread to cover them both.

His insane uncle would open that goddamn door, and enter the goddamn room, even if they bribed him with million dollars for not doing so. And Malia would be right behind him.

End.


End file.
